


Return To Sender: Wrong Address

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Series: Love Is A Different Kind Of Pain [4]
Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: And that means sometimes a random baby will appear in your kitchen, And then shenanigans ensue, Autistic Cooper, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Ignores Season 3, Lodge dodge, M/M, Mutual Pining, The Author Regrets Nothing, Twin Peaks is a strange place, Which looks like your best friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24708673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: “What’s up, Coop?”“I woke up this morning and encountered something entirely unexpected.” He stands aside to let them in and then goes straight to the kitchen. “I was coming to make coffee for myself and it was… sitting right there, on the table.”Both of them stare without saying a word, and he doesn’t blame them because that was precisely his reaction. Currently, a newborn is asleep on his kitchen table, which he’d immediately wrapped up in one of his flannels before calling Lucy. She has an infant child herself, after all, and will know how to proceed.“It was just…there?” Harry finally asks.“Yes,” Dale nods. “I’m concerned that there’s no evidence that my home has been broken into, which is the only possible explanation for how this occurred.”
Relationships: Dale Cooper/Harry Truman
Series: Love Is A Different Kind Of Pain [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718449
Comments: 27
Kudos: 28





	1. Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> First of all... this is not a trope that I've done before.
> 
> Second of all, the title of this fic is from a sarcastic comment made by Albert in one of the middle chapters. I love that cynical bastard :D
> 
> Dense Harry is the best Harry and he makes a return here.
> 
> This fic is weird. Enjoy.

Harry folds the newspaper back up and sets it on his desk before taking a long sip of coffee. It’s sleeting outside, making the roads awful and pretty much guaranteeing he’ll be sending officers out left and right to deal with accidents on the highway all day, and also the heater in his office is broken so he gets to sit here in his winter coat waiting for the coffee to warm him up. On the front page of this morning’s paper is a picture of Laura, honoring the one-year anniversary of her death. He still can’t believe it’s been a year already.

An entire year. That year has been filled with both the worst and best thing that’s ever happened to Harry, which is Special Agent Dale Cooper. The best because they have an incredible friendship, whenever Dale’s not out working a case he’ll sometimes swing by the station with takeout from the Double R after magically knowing that Harry forgot to have lunch and they’ve gone fishing together and Harry’s even taken him on a couple of hunting trips during the fall. The worst because… well, Harry can finally admit this to himself now. He’s in love with his best friend. His best friend who is _straight._ His best friend who probably never had that moment when another boy pulled him aside to kiss him in some dark corner of the high school and made him realize that yeah, he actually liked boys, too, and not just girls. (That moment is burned into Harry’s memory until the day he dies, and it’s not only because Brandon was a bad kisser and practically chipped both their front teeth through sheer clumsiness.)

“It’s starting already,” Hawk says, poking his head in through the door. “Two guys just went out for two separate accidents over on highway nine.”

“Great,” Harry grumbles sarcastically.

Hawk can apparently tell what he was just thinking about and makes a face at him. “Harry, you need to talk to him. I don’t know how he hasn’t figured it out for himself by now but don’t you think he deserves a little honesty?”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

Hawk closes the door. “You’re unhappy and you need to do something about it. This has been going on for months.”

“If I wanted a therapist I’d go see Lawrence,” Harry snaps, mostly because he’s sick of Hawk dogging him about it. “Shit like this ruins friendships.”

This is clearly going to devolve into an argument, but then Lucy interrupts them: “Sheriff?”

He presses the button, ignoring Hawk’s impatient glare. “Yeah.”

“I’m terribly sorry, but I have to leave for a few minutes for an unexpected… um… I have to leave for a few minutes, Sheriff. Agent Cooper just called and asked for me specifically to help him with something and he sounded very upset on the phone.”

“Did he say what was wrong?” Harry demands, alarmed.

“No, just that I have expertise that’s needed for his current situation and also that if you decide to come too you need to not ask for an explanation because he doesn’t have one for you.”

That’s just too weird.

“Lemme grab my hat, you can ride up with me.”

* * *

Dale is immediately distressed to see Harry’s truck arrive in his driveway, but also completely unsurprised. Thankfully, Lucy has in fact come as well, which is important because it’s her he actually needs at the moment. He opens the door before they even reach the porch.

“Good morning, Agent Cooper.”

“Good morning, Lucy. Thank you for coming. Harry… this may also concern you, so it’s good you came as well.”

Harry frowns. “Really? What’s up, Coop?”

“I woke up this morning and encountered something entirely unexpected.” He stands aside to let them in and then goes straight to the kitchen. “I was coming to make coffee for myself and it was… sitting right there, on the table.”

Both of them stare without saying a word, and he doesn’t blame them because that was precisely his reaction. Currently, a newborn is asleep on his kitchen table, which he’d immediately wrapped up in one of his flannels before calling Lucy. She has an infant child herself, after all, and will know how to proceed.

“It was just… _there?_ ” Harry finally asks.

“Yes,” Dale nods. “I’m concerned that there’s no evidence that my home has been broken into, which is the only possible explanation for how this occurred.”

“Not necessarily,” Harry says slowly. “Uh… Coop, this has happened before. A couple times, actually. Nobody really can explain it, but there’s a lotta stuff we can’t explain about this damn town anyway, so that’s just par for the course. Usually we’ve just called them ‘wish babies.’ I remember back when I was a kid, there was a big fuss because somehow it never occurred to anybody that two men who lived together in the same house were actually a couple until they started parading around this baby that came outta nowhere. They moved outta town eventually because everyone was throwing bricks through their windows.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“This explanation only makes the situation more perplexing for me,” Dale admits, “because even at a passing glance this infant resembles _you,_ Harry. Perhaps it was delivered to the wrong location.”

Harry’s eyes get huge, now, and he approaches for a closer look. Dale can see the exact moment when recognition strikes, that those curls and that skin tone and those eyebrows couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else. Shock and almost horror, fear, confusion, a singular lack of comprehension about how this possibly could’ve happened. Dale takes pity on Harry and places a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

“I completely agree,” Dale nods.

“Well you can’t just keep standing there!” Lucy says, coming to the table as well and expertly scooping the infant into her arms. “Sheriff, if this is your baby, then you have to bring it home and take care of it, and you need to go buy some clothes and diapers and formula! Although actually I have some things that Wally’s outgrown and I can give them to you but you’ll have to take care of all those other things for yourself.”

“I’m not even married, I can’t take care of a baby!” Harry yells, throwing his arms out to his sides. “I don’t know a damn thing about kids!”

“Well then you should probably start learning,” Lucy scolds. “I’ll write a list of things for you and after work Andy will bring you Wally’s old clothes, but you’ll have to take the day off to get everything together and also see Doctor Hayward so he can take a look at this baby and write up a birth certificate and you also need to learn how to make formula and change a diaper.”

Harry, to his great credit, manages not to fall into a complete panic, and Dale admires him immensely for that. Instead it appears that the protective and responsible instincts he already naturally possesses take over, which put an air of resignation and defeat into his demeanor.

“Okay, Lucy,” Harry says quietly. “Uh. What should I do first?”

“Agent Cooper, can I please have some paper?”

“Of course.” He rummages the drawer designated to miscellaneous items and produces a spare police notepad and a pen for her to use. “Here, I’ll take… it.”

Dale cuddles Harry’s baby to his chest and they watch in silence as she scribbles out a long list of items. Harry seems to not even know how to do that much, because he doesn’t offer to take it from Dale. Or maybe he’s simply too shocked for it to occur to him that he should be holding his own child. The main thing is that this infant appeared in Dale’s house and not in Harry’s, but they can revisit that later when there are less pressing matters at hand.

“Okay, Sheriff. If I think of anything later I’ll tell you, and I’ll also let everyone know that you won’t be in today at the station, but do you want them to know what happened?”

“Uh… yeah, they might as well. Everyone’s gonna find out anyway.”

“Harry, if you give me two minutes to get dressed, I’ll help you complete this list,” Dale offers.

“Yeah, that’d be helpful, Coop. Thanks.”

Approximately fifteen minutes later the two of them arrive at Doc Hayward’s outpatient office with the baby in tow.

“There’s only been a couple recorded cases of this before,” the doctor comments as he weighs and measures the baby, which is now awake but thankfully not fussing. “And he was just in Dale’s house?”

“Yes, I woke up and discovered him on my kitchen table. He was cold so I allowed him to borrow a shirt for the time being.”

“Doc, how does this even happen?” Harry wonders.

Poor Harry. He looks so lost, Dale would desperately like to hug him but it would be inappropriate at this time.

“Well, usually there’s two parents, which is what really stumps me,” Doc Hayward admits. “There’s really nobody special in your life right now?”

“No, not since… not since Josie. There’s nobody.”

 _I could be your somebody special, Harry,_ Dale thinks. Which is absolutely pointless. Harry has never shown even the faintest hint of a romantic or sexual interest in him at any point.

“Eight pounds, two ounces. I’m sure you don’t have a name for him yet, so start thinking about one while I get his hand and footprints.”

Harry just looks baffled at that and stares after Doc Hayward as he leaves the room. Then he turns to Dale.

“What the hell am I gonna do?”

Dale frowns to himself. “What’s your father’s name?”

“Frederick.”

“There, you have a middle name at least. Now all you need is a first name… generally speaking, most children are unsatisfied with their given names and have one in mind that they would’ve chosen for themselves. Did you experience this?

“Yeah, I think so… yeah.”

“Well, what would you have chosen?”

“Zach.”

“There you go. Zachary Frederick Truman,” Dale says.

“Coop, you’re my hero.”

He chuckles softly. “I only pointed out the steps you needed, Harry.”

“I should name him after you in your honor,” Harry jokes.

“Oh, please don’t. I loathe and despise my name.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. It doesn’t ring correctly with me, hence me choosing to have others address me by my surname instead.”

Harry nods. “Coop, what the hell am I gonna do? How am I gonna take care of a baby with no wife and a job that runs after hours?”

“Pay one of the local teenage girls to babysit,” Dale suggests.

“No, absolutely not. I wouldn’t trust them with a hamster, forget about a baby.”

“Harry, I have absolute confidence that you will quickly devise a method to efficiently and carefully look after your son.”

Harry nods slowly. And then, gradually, a spark of realization and joy comes to his eyes. He breaks out in a smile. “I have a son.”

Dale grins back at him. “You do indeed. All things considered, congratulations.”

Dale holds out a hand to shake, but Harry hugs him instead. While he’s being honest with himself, Dale much prefers this and hugs Harry back.

“Y’know, it’s not something I ever thought would happen?”

“I know the feeling,” Dale agrees. “It’s long been a goal of mine which I’ve also been unable to realize. Come to think of it, Harry, I’m a little envious of you. This is an amazing gift.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“If you like, whenever I’m not working a case, I can keep an eye on him for you while you’re at the station.”

“That’d be great, Coop. You’re probably the only one I’d ever feel comfortable leaving him with besides Lucy or Hawk.”

“It’s an honor,” Dale assures him. “I’ll do my utmost to ensure he’s properly cared for under my supervision.”

Doc Hayward comes back with the baby. “I know I put you on the spot a little, but do you have a name for him?”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “Zach. Zachary. And for his middle name I’m just naming him after my dad.”

“Good. Now, you’ll have a lot of paperwork to fill out about this…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obvious plot twist is obvious.
> 
> Presumably the baby materialized already wearing a diaper. But the idea of Cooper wrapping him up in a flannel shirt was too good to pass up.
> 
> Fun fact: Zach is the name of a character played by Michael Ontkean in a movie called Making Love... it was released in 1982 and stars him as a closeted gay man coming to terms with himself. This movie is very sensitive and charming and I absolutely love it, it's fairly easy to find for free through a quick Google search. Zachary was also the name of my best friend in kindergarten.


	2. Magic Acts

The most annoying thing happens the day after Harry gets this baby: Dale is called for a case. Which means Harry has nobody to baby-sit. And this is after Zach was crying every hour needing to be fed (and sometimes changed), so Harry very literally didn’t sleep for a minute last night. So, he hasn’t slept since he woke up yesterday morning and Dale is about to jump on a plane for Nevada.

Harry takes Zach to work with him… it’s the only thing he can do.

“Morning Lucy,” Harry mumbles as he passes the window. “Thanks for the clothes.”

“You’re welcome, Sheriff. Deputy Hawk is in your office.”

“Okay.”

Harry gets some coffee first and comes into his office with a mug in one hand and a newborn in the other.

“Harry-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Harry interrupts.

“You don’t even know what I was about to say.”

Harry shakes his head and sets down the coffee cup, then pulls off his hat and tosses it onto his desk. “I don’t wanna hear  _ any _ of it,” he clarifies. “I don’t wanna hear about Coop, I don’t wanna hear about whatever Catherine came up with this time. I don’t wanna hear it, Hawk. I haven’t slept since the night before last and you can probably see for yourself right now that I got bigger problems.”

“Now here’s what I don’t understand, if this baby is yours, then why did he pop up in Cooper’s house?” Hawk wonders.

“Well, that’s the million dollar question, now ain’t it?” Harry grumps. He hands over his keys to his deputy. “There’s a pile of stuff in the front seat of my truck, can you go grab it for me?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Harry takes roll call with a little bit of difficulty, because his hands are busy feeding Zach a bottle and so Hawk sits next to him and turns the papers over when he needs it. Then everyone gets dispatched and the station is quiet. Harry goes back to his office and sits, wondering how the hell he’s gonna do his job today with a baby to take care of and zero hours’ sleep. This is worse than that time he came to work hungover.

Andy comes in. “Excuse me Sheriff, I noticed that you look terrible this morning.”

“Thanks,” Harry snorts, rubbing his face.

“If you like, I could sit in the conference room and keep an eye on him for you so you can take a nap this morning.”

“Uh… yeah, go ahead. Thanks, Andy. Don’t drop him.”

“I won’t, I have lots of brothers and sisters and I never dropped them, either,” he promises.

Harry closes the door and turns off the light, then lies down on the floor behind his desk with his arm folded under his head and his winter coat draped over himself. He wakes up when his phone rings and looking at the clock realizes he missed lunch.

“Sheriff Truman,” he groans into the phone as he stretches his back before yawning as silently as possible.

“Are you alright, Harry?” comes Dale’s voice.

Harry smiles. Sometimes he wishes he didn’t love Dale so much because it really kinda hurts, but right now he can’t help it.

“Yeah, you woke me up from a nap. You need anything, Coop?”

“No, I have a spare moment and I was worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because infants are challenging, so I’ve heard.”

“I didn’t get a damn bit of sleep last night,” Harry confesses, pulling his coat on because it’s cold in his office and then settling in his chair. “Why couldn’t it have magically been a five-year-old who can use the bathroom and sleep through the night?”

“Presumably that would be equally difficult, raising children is one of the most arduous tasks known to man.”

“Nice to know I got so much to look forward to.”

“Harry, it occurred to me that you don’t have room in your house for a child,” Dale points out in a very concerned voice. “There’s only one bedroom and the house isn’t very large in general.”

“Not much I can do about that, Coop. I’ll come up with something, right now Will says I should just keep him nearby anyway.”

“Harry, you missed lunch again, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Go eat something, Albert is demanding that I return to the task at hand anyway.”

“How long you think this one’ll take?”

“Oh, possibly two weeks, but likely less than that. Good luck, Harry.”

“I should be telling you that.”

They hang up and Harry heads to the coffee nook to scrounge up some donuts.

* * *

“And you’re sure this wasn’t a crime?” Albert asks for the third time.

Dale’s starting to get impatient with him. “Albert, in what possible scenario can you imagine an infant who has an undeniably strong resemblance to my best friend being procured and placed in my home without a single piece of forensic evidence to be found?”

“It’s definitely an x-file, Coop, I’ll give you that one. But you can’t even offer me any kind of explanation aside from what those devolved troglodytes and your hick cowboy sheriff had to say, and I find that suspect.”

“Albert, first of all, let’s pretend for a moment that I’ve already told you on many occasions that Harry is much smarter and more capable than you give him credit for,” Dale snaps, fed up with his offensive manner of speaking. “Aside from that, you’re perfectly aware of the bizarre phenomena that occur in Twin Peaks as well as its general area on a regular basis. I described the scenario to you because you’re able to clearly see lines between point A and point B and I have to confess that I’m stumped on this one.”

“What exactly do you want me to do, Coop? Fly home with you and take a look? The Bureau doesn’t pay me for that. And besides, I deal in medical examinations and laboratory testing, not magic acts.”

“At least consider what I’ve said.” Dale is desperate for a second set of eyes on this one no matter how awful Albert is being. “Assuming for a second you did believe what I told you, and taking it into consideration as evidence, what would your conclusion be?”

“Well…” Albert frowns for a second and puts down his dinner fork so he can fold his hands on the table. “The so-called facts don’t fit. In each of the other incidences that they told you about, there were always two people involved with the infant in question. However, this one looks like Harry Truman and appeared in your house despite him having never expressed any interest in you. Ergo, it can’t also be yours.” Albert snorts. “Maybe the woodland fairies got mixed up carrying it in, you should’ve put it back in your garden with a note attached reading ‘return to sender: wrong address.’”

“You’re not funny.”

“You have some kind of disorder, Coop. You wouldn’t know ‘funny’ if it walked up and shot you,” Albert comments.

“I have been shot,” Dale reminds him. “And that wasn’t especially funny, either.”

“Coop, I’m not humoring you any more on this absurdity. Eat your salmon.”


	3. Exhaustion

“Good thing for you I don’t have anywhere to be tonight, huh?” Hawk comments.

“I really just need to sleep for a couple hours,” Harry explains for the third time, kicking off his boots and dumping his coat and hat in a pile. “I’m scared I’ll drop him or something if I don’t have a nap.”

“Harry, listen. Don’t feel bad for needing a break to take care of yourself after this landed on you without a warning,” Hawk offers, shifting Zach to his other shoulder. “Maybe you should take some time off, too. Bringing him to the station with you clearly isn’t working out that well, maybe just a month or two until you think you can put him in day-care or something.”

“Who else is gonna do my job? What if we end up with another string of murders while I’m sitting on my ass at home watching  _ Invitation to Love _ and heating up bottles in the microwave?”

“There won’t be another string of murders, and you mostly sit at your desk lately anyway.” Hawk shakes his head. “Go have your damn nap, already. We can keep arguing about this when you wake up.”

Harry can feel what’s left of his energy draining by the second, so he doesn’t say anything else and drags himself off to his bedroom. He doesn’t remember making a decision to sleep with his work clothes and his wool jacket and even his damn pistol belt still on, but he wakes up with those things and lying on his back and wondering how long he slept for. He doesn’t feel all that rested, so probably only a couple hours or so.

There’s a surprise waiting for him in his living room.

“Hawk let me in,” Dale whispers from the couch. “Be quiet, he just fell asleep.”

“Okay.” Harry can’t process this - Dale is sprawled there, missing his shoes and suit jacket with his tie pulled down and the top button of his shirt undone. Meanwhile, Zach is fast asleep on his chest. It probably has something to do with how damn exhausted he is, but Harry almost wants to cry because it’s a cruel reflection of something he doesn’t get to actually have. “Did you eat? I can make you something.”

“I’m alright. Worry about yourself first.”

Which means the answer is no. So Harry pulls some venison out of his freezer and puts it in the microwave to defrost… he hates doing that, it can really ruin the flavor, but he doesn’t have several hours to wait around by soaking it in water. This makes him feel worse, because there’s a gorgeous man over there, lying on his couch and cuddling his baby and who he’s now cooking for. But he doesn’t get to have Dale, ever. Harry needs to give up on this dumbass little fantasy of his because chasing straight guys is pointless no matter how pretty they are.

“How was your case? You weren’t gone very long.”

“Standard,” Dale comments. “Albert was a pain and grueling to work with, but that’s nothing new. I’m glad to be home.”

Home… as in Twin Peaks, not Harry’s house. He feels like he got stabbed.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure Norma’s glad you’re home too, since you spend hundreds of dollars on pie every month.”

“Harry, it was only one hundred and twelve dollars,” Dale corrects, apparently not getting that he’s being teased.

“Oh, well, money well spent then.”

“Indeed. Oh, are you cooking deer meat?”

“I will once it’s thawed. See, I knew you were hungry.”

“I did help you bag that deer.”

Harry smiles a little. “Yeah, you did. Hang on, I’ll be back in a sec.”

He returns to his bedroom just long enough to shuck his work uniform and throw on some jeans, then comes into the living room shrugging his flannel up to his shoulders and rolling the sleeves back. Dale is watching him intently as he does… does Dale always watch him intently? Well, Dale does everything intently anyway, so probably.

“What is it, Coop?”

“You seem distressed.”

“A newborn just got dropped in my lap nine days ago and there wasn’t even a woman involved. Can you blame me?”

“No, I suppose I can’t. However that’s not how I meant it.”

Oh no, he slipped up. Dale’s noticing. Harry’s managed to keep his problem to himself until now, he can’t afford it to change, he’ll lose his best friend-

“I’m alright, Coop.”

“You’re lying,” Dale says.

“Fine… I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Are you sure? It might help.”

“It won’t, trust me. How do you want yours cooked?”

“Medium is fine. Oh, Hawk asked me to inform you that you’re taking a month off from work and if you don’t comply his exact words were ‘I’m going to drag him back home where he belongs and take away his car keys.’ Apparently your deputies are strongly of the opinion that you’re demanding too much of yourself at the moment and that you should be spending time with your son instead.”

“That’s nice, Coop. Next time you see Hawk feel free to kick his ass for me.”

“He’s right, Harry.”

“I have to do my job.”

“You’re not prioritizing correctly. You have an infant to take care of. Harry, please believe me when I say I would like to take this burden off your hands during work hours, but I think we’ve recently seen that I can’t be relied on for such a thing and may be called for an investigation at any moment.”

Harry sighs. “Yeah.”

“If you like, I’ll stay over tonight and take care of Zach so that you can get an adequate amount of sleep.”

“…thanks, Coop.”

_ Why don’t I get to have you? _ Harry thinks to himself when he’s turned towards the stove and his friend can’t read all his thoughts in his face.  _ You’re better at taking care of my mystery son than I am. _

The smell of venison soon fills his kitchen and then the rest of the house, especially once he seasons it. For side dishes he boils some potatoes to be mashed with butter and garlic, then a bag of frozen cauliflower that he microwaves and mixes with some mushrooms that are probably about to go bad and shouldn’t actually be fed to a guy that he likes. There is one thing, though… he taught Dale to hunt, so he definitely knows he’ll be able to teach Zach later on, too. That’s one certainty even if he doesn’t have any others to go with it.

Dale goes into Harry’s bedroom to put Zach in the crib, then comes back and sits at the table right as Harry sets a plate down for him.

“Thank you, Harry.”

“Don’t mention it.” Harry drops into the chair across from him and starts shoveling food into his mouth. “So Albert was being a shit again?”

“He really does have the incredible capacity to be a complete bastard and test even my patience,” Dale nods, taking way more reasonably-sized bites than Harry. “I did attempt to put his intelligence and problem-solving to good use by describing your current situation, but he essentially laughed in my face about it and refused to offer any useful insight. I’m still incredibly perplexed by the fact that Zach arrived to me and not to you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if we’ll ever have an answer for that one,” Harry shrugs. “Y’know what, I don’t even think it matters. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s here and that apparently my life revolves around him, now.”

“If it helps,” Dale says, reaching over and putting a hand on his forearm, “I don’t believe your situation is ultimately that different from any new parents’. It’s impossible to be completely prepared for the arrival of your first child, you simply had less warning than most people. But the exhaustion, being overwhelmed, is universal. It’s a paradigm shift for your complete state of being. But you’re making your best effort. I have no doubt that you’ll learn to find joy in this.”

Harry wants to yank his arm away because that one tiny thing is very unreasonably about to make him cry for real this time. It’s not fair. He can only just barely remember this because he was completely smashed at the time, but after trashing the Bookhouse he knows Dale said something about how he loves too much and right now he’s really feeling the horrible underside of that. He’s in way over his head even though it’s hopeless.

“Harry.”

“Yeah.”

“I know something’s wrong. Please talk to me.”

“Coop, I just - I’m so tired,” he starts with. And here’s a good excuse to finally get his arm out from under Dale’s touch, because he rubs his face with both hands. “I never knew anything this helpless before. I have to do everything, but sometimes I don’t know  _ what _ I’m s’posed to do, and sometimes he just cries and cries and I can’t get him to stop no matter what. And… I’m not married. I don’t have anybody. I feel real bad dumping him on you or Hawk just so I can steal a nap.”

At least Dale seems like he buys that. And all of it’s even true, Harry just left out the small (huge) part about being in love with him.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’ll do everything I can to alleviate some of the strain you’re feeling, and please don’t ever feel guilty going forward for needing to rest. Whenever I’m here in Twin Peaks, I have more than enough time to spare.”

Harry nods a little. “Thanks, Coop,” he whispers.

They go back to eating. Dale seems to be looking at him kinda funny, but not in a mean way. Harry does his best not to think about it. He can’t give anything away if he can help it, shit like this ruins friendships.

* * *

Dale isn’t able to come up with a plausible explanation for exactly why this is, but he feels very attached to this baby. While staying awake for the entire night to relieve Harry of the stress of parenting, Dale has been sucked further and further in each time Zach’s eyes focus on his face for a moment, or whenever his fingertip is grabbed onto, or at each of the tiny cooing noises. Curiously, he’s noticed that Zach’s eyes are blue… he wonders if this is any indication of the identity of the absent second parent or if it has to do with the fact that most infants are born with blue eyes which later change color. Harry’s eyes are brown and if Dale had to hazard a guess he would assume Zach’s eyes will also become brown in the near future.

Equally strange is the way that Zach seems familiar to Dale in a way that he’s frustratingly unable to place. There are hints here, though he can’t ascertain what they are exactly, as to the identity of the second parent. But Dale is certain he’s seen those ears and that nose on someone before.

“Whose son are you?” Dale murmurs, not expecting an answer. He’s struggled with recognizing faces ever since he was a child and instead recalls people by the sounds of their voices, which has made for several odd and difficult situations over the years.

Zach, of course, says nothing. His soft, pudgy hand wraps around Dale’s finger and he simply continues to exist as he has for the past ten days without a care. Truly, the most free and unbound creature Dale has ever come across.

Harry breaks the tranquility of the morning by staggering through the living room and into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and socks but no shirt, fumbling to get his coffee maker started, and then rummaging his fridge briefly before producing a box of leftover donuts that Hawk left here last night.

“Good morning, Harry,” Dale tries from the couch. All he receives is an absent grunt. “Perhaps you should sleep longer.”

There is… absolutely no excuse for how gorgeous Harry is in this state. It leaves Dale to wonder when exactly he finds the time to work out and maintain his physique, and also why he feels the need to shave every morning when he looks so  _ good _ with a fine layer of scruff. Not to mention his curls, of course. Dale has long been enamored with those all on their own.

Fortunately, Harry isn’t present enough to notice that he’s being gawked at, and Dale realizes that he is, in fact, gawking at his best friend and immediately ceases to do so.

“You still get funny dreams sometimes, Coop?” Harry wonders as he sits down at the table and rubs his face in his palms.

“Yes, sometimes. Why?”

“Just wonderin’.”

“Have you been having strange dreams, Harry?”

“I haven’t slept long enough to dream at all until last night,” Harry snorts. “I did dream last night, but I don’t really remember too much from it. I know you were there.”

“I see.” Dale debates whether he should wait until Harry’s had some coffee before saying what’s on his mind, but then decides it doesn’t really matter. “Harry… it has occurred to me sometime in the last several hours that there is a second parent for Zach. There are features of his face which are very distinctly not similar to yours, and I believe we should make an effort to find out who this person is.”

“You really think it’s that important?” Harry wonders. “There’s nobody in my life right now, Coop. And whoever this second person is probably wouldn’t like having a baby and also  _ me _ suddenly dumped on them like that. Y’know? ’Cause we don’t come separately or anything.”

Dale smiles. “Perhaps they would pay child support.”

“There’s not even that many people I can think of who I’d be okay with letting them help me raise him anyway.”

“But there are at least a few people you have in mind,” Dale guesses. “Who are they?”

“Uh… maybe you, since you’re so good with him anyway,” Harry jokes. “I don’t know, Coop. This is something I gotta do on my own mostly. Having some help here and there is okay, but just letting a whole other person in with everything… I don’t think I could handle that. At least not right now.”

“Understandable,” Dale nods. “I only wanted to bring it up because I don’t think you should have to feel so lonely.”

Harry gets up and goes to the coffee maker now that it’s completed its cycle. “Been lonely for long enough now that I don’t usually notice it anymore,” he comments. “It’s not that important.”

“Ah, so there  _ is _ someone,” Dale grins, riding on a sliver of intuition that tells him Harry is leaving something out. “Who is it?”

“None’a your damn business,” Harry growls. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Alright, but you might feel better if you did,” Dale points out, standing up from the couch and sitting at the table where Harry has placed a mug for him. He shakes away a twinge of sadness that comes with the understanding that it’s not him on Harry’s mind. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry nods. “You’re a good friend, Coop.”

“I do my best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when Cooper is on the couch with the baby on his chest, the baby is sleeping facedown. DO NOT EVER LET NEWBORNS SLEEP ON THEIR STOMACHS. IT CONTRIBUTES TO SUDDEN INFANT DEATH SYNDROME. He doesn't know better, but now you do.
> 
> Also this goes without saying but when Cooper was "watching him intently," he was actually checking Harry out and Harry misinterpreted it :D


	4. Connections

It stays in the back of his head and starts to bother him kinda like how a rock in his shoe would… small and annoying at first, in a way he thinks he can probably ignore, but eventually more and more intrusive until he finally has to actually do something about it.

“Will, can I ask you something?” Harry asks during Zach’s one-month checkup.

“Go ahead.”

“Does he look like someone to you? Besides me, I mean. Coop said something about it a couple weeks ago and it won’t get outta my mind.”

Doc Hayward frowns down at Zach. “A little, yes, I think he does. It’s hard to say, he looks a lot like you, Harry.”

“Yeah…”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but it seems like it’s been eating you on the inside,” Doc Hayward comments while snapping Zach’s onesie. “You let Cooper take care of him a lot.”

“Yeah, and?”

“You wish he was seeing you.”

There’s not a lotta point in denying it, and he’s also sure it won’t leave this office. “Yeah.”

“I know you well enough to know you’re going to ignore me when I say this, but I think you should talk to him. You’re not being fair to yourself or to him by staying quiet about it.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“I don’t think he’d stop being your best friend. I don’t even think he’d mind at all.”

“It might make things weird between us,” Harry argues. “And he’s helped me out so much since this happened, and I know he loves my son. I don’t wanna make anything hard for him.”

“You’re scared of rejection, Harry. You’re already letting this poor man fill in for whoever it is that’s the other half of your baby and you won’t even show him enough respect to let him know how you feel. That looks really unfair from where I’m standing.”

He has a point.

“I’ll think about it,” Harry grumbles.

“Please do. You’re making yourself suffer for nothing.”

After the checkup is over, Harry goes to the Double R to meet Dale for lunch.

“Afternoon, Harry,” Dale greets, taking Zach from him momentarily so he can get his coat off. “A clean bill of health, I presume?”

“Yep, he’s doing great.”

Harry pauses with one arm still in the sleeve to look, _really look,_ at what he’s seeing here. Zach is upright on Dale’s shoulder, their heads are right next to each other, and for whatever reason despite Dale holding Zach countless times already, it’s now impossible to miss. Zach, curly hair notwithstanding, looks just like Dale from the side. Nose, ears. The general shape of his cheeks and jaw ignoring all the baby fat. And that hurts, so bad, now that Harry can finally see it. All the pieces come together and the picture is laughing in his face: he’s in so deep and wants Dale so much that Dale had his baby and didn’t even know it, still doesn’t realize.

Harry has no idea what he should do now. He _has_ to tell Dale, and he knows that, because this is also Dale’s son apparently and not just his. Dale deserves to know. But Dale still doesn’t want Harry. Dale’s straight and should probably find someone and get married and have his own kids, the normal way how people usually have babies without them popping up out of nowhere.

Harry finishes taking his coat off and sits down.

“Harry, are you alright?”

Dale is so worried about him. _Just keep twisting that knife in deeper, huh?_ Harry thinks.

“No. No, Coop, I’m really not, but I can’t talk about it here. I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

Now his friend is even more alarmed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just have lunch.”

Harry then proceeds to pick at the food he orders without actually eating it. He’s forgotten how to be hungry because there’s a pit in his gut that’s making him nervous and sick instead. They have a son but Dale isn’t capable of loving Harry the way Harry loves him. Life’s not supposed to work this way, two _men_ don’t usually end up having a baby together, and Harry never should’ve let himself have a thing for Dale in the first place… but when it started happening he didn’t even notice. And now it’s too late to fix it.

Movement breaks him back into reality - Dale is dropping a twenty dollar bill on the table, which is way more than their meals actually cost but apparently that doesn’t matter.

“Why don’t you come over to my house this time, Harry.” It’s not an offer, but it’s not an order, either. It’s somewhere between the two and clearly Harry being so upset is getting Dale all upset right along with him. “I’ll make coffee.”

“Okay,” Harry agrees quietly.

They go to Dale’s place and Harry’s just noticing more and more things… Zach never cries when Dale holds him. Not once. It makes him wonder if that goes right along with the whole having-psychic-powers thing that Dale’s got going on, and if Zach maybe inherited those too. And also if on some subconscious level Dale already knows that Zach is both of theirs and just hasn’t actively made that connection yet. Harry screws around with Dale’s coffee machine but also watches while Dale smiles at Zach grabbing his hand. And he’s always done that, too, Harry just never noticed until now.

Finally they’re sitting in the living room with coffee mugs. Dale is still holding their son.

“Coop, I gotta tell you something, and you need to promise you won’t say anything until I’m done,” Harry starts.

“Alright.”

“So… our second day working together, you just automatically knew that I was seeing Josie because body language and your intuition and everything. Now this got me to thinking about something long after she died, about how people’s body language changes and everything depending how they feel and what the situation is and all that kinda stuff. So I… I kinda did a lot to make sure I wasn’t doing those things because I didn’t want you to notice…” Harry swallows and looks at the floor. “Coop, I’ve been in love with you for awhile now. I didn’t wanna say anything because I know you only like women and I didn’t want things to get weird between us. But I guess the universe or whoever wasn’t happy with it staying like that, because this afternoon I finally figured out that the reason Zach appeared in your kitchen is because he’s also yours. And it really wouldn’t be fair to keep that to myself. I know this is real sudden, and I’m sorry for that. But I didn’t wanna keep that from you. You should get to know.”

Dale, very unusually, seems like he’s stunned into silence. Harry can’t even look at his friend. He’s sad and ashamed and already heartbroken, bracing himself for whatever’s inevitably coming next.

Dale audibly breathes in. “Well, Harry, you did in fact do an excellent job of fooling me,” is how he starts. His voice is even, though, and he doesn’t sound mad. “I was quite effectively convinced that you had no interest in me beyond friendship until now. I am mildly offended at the idea that you believe me narrow-minded enough that I would become distant or hostile had I discovered this fact for myself, but given the current state of society I also understand how you could draw such a conclusion about most anybody.”

“I’m sorry, Coop.”

“I know you are, it’s alright. I also appreciate that you told me about Zach at the soonest possible opportunity despite how difficult and uncomfortable it was for you. Most people would postpone such a discussion, and I’m both glad and unsurprised that you were brave enough to skip the theatrics on this issue. Thank you for telling me right away.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Your thinking, however, is still erroneous in a very large capacity.”

“What?”

“Will you please look at me for what I’m about to tell you?”

Harry forces himself to do it no matter how much it hurts. “What is it, Coop?”

Dale smiles at him. “I wish you hadn’t gone to all that trouble. I’ve been pining after you for months and it could’ve saved us both a great deal of difficulty.”

That takes a second to sink in. “Wait, what?”

“Harry, we’ve been in love with each other for a significant amount of time and yet neither of us said anything because we were both operating under the misnomer that the other one wouldn’t reciprocate those feelings. It’s so tragic that the current level of sustained homophobia has driven us both to act in such nonsensical ways that I can’t help finding it absolutely hysterical.”

“Now - hold on.” Harry puts both his palms up to stop Dale from talking. “Why didn’t you tell me, Coop?”

“For precisely the reasons you also didn’t tell me,” Dale answers calmly. “It’s a sensitive topic and I wasn’t willing to upset you over it when you didn’t seem to be interested in me.”

Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I thought you were straight.”

“As it happens, I’m not. I’m perfectly capable of feeling romantic and sexual attraction to both men and women. Presumably, given what little I’ve seen of any of your prior relationships, so are you.”

“Yeah.”

Slowly, Dale’s face grows into another huge smile. “Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“Harry, we have a _son._ ”

That takes a second to sink in.

“Yeah, we do.” Harry can’t help it - he starts to smile, too.

“Seemingly one of my more far-reaching ambitions until now. Fortunately, the miracles that take place in Twin Peaks never cease.”

“Well… we’ll have to get his birth certificate amended now, your name should be on there too.”

“Yes, I suppose we will,” Dale agrees, turning to look down again at Zach holding his finger. It’s something that happens kind of a lot, but Dale never gets sick of it. He’s probably even more enamored with it now than he was before. “Sometimes the best and most important things in your life are the most unexpected… I’ve gained two such things today, and I don’t believe I’ll ever have words to express how happy that makes me.”

Harry’s startled for a second when he realizes Dale is also referring to him. “I wish I was smart enough to say something sooner.”

“It’s alright,” Dale promises. Then he makes a face and stuffs his hand into his pocket because it’s no longer being hung onto and pulls out the damn tape recorder. “Diane, it’s… two thirty eight pm. Harry and I have just made an incredible discovery.”

“Coop, _no,_ ” Harry insists, reaching over to grab it from him and then turning it off. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Actually he doesn’t really know _why._ It takes him a second. “I don’t wanna share this with anybody else yet. Maybe it can just be for us for a few more hours.”

He hands the tape recorder back over and Dale frowns thoughtfully for a second before nodding.

“Alright, Harry.”

* * *

Dale’s eyes open to darkness and a pile of heavy wool blankets and strange sheets and an unfamiliar (but in no way unpleasant) air. He’s not in his pajamas or at home… not at his own home, anyway. No, this home belongs to Harry and their son. _Their son._ Dale smiles into the pillow. Never in his most outlandish daydreaming fantasies or nighttime subconscious wanderings had he ever dared hope for this, and now he has it.

This leads Dale to question why he awoke, but then it occurs to his sixth sense that Zach is about to wake up and fuss for food. To avoid that and the disturbance it’ll cause to Harry’s rest, he slips out of bed with less rigidity and impact than a ghost and pads barefoot to the crib. With his son (his son! Who would’ve ever thought!) in tow, he retreats to Harry’s kitchen and starts microwaving a bottle. He’s perfectly aware that the nutritional benefits of synthetic infant formula are indescribably inferior, but it’s not as though he has an especially wide array of alternatives. This leads him to wonder if mixing the formula powder with milk instead of water would provide more sustenance… although, dairy products are pasteurized. So it’s unlikely.

Dale is also curious to know, looking at Zach’s almost honey-colored curls, if Harry was blonde as a baby. Having seen pictures of himself at this age, Dale knows for certain that his own hair has always been its current pigment of jet black, but Zach’s hair is a significantly lighter shade than Harry’s. And this brings his mind to Harry in general. Dale loves Harry to such a degree that he couldn’t accurately describe it if asked. In fact… come to think of it, the last person Dale loved this much was Caroline. It’s sobering, even frightening, to realize. But also, in some manner, comforting as well. He’d never thought he could ever love somebody as much as he did her ever again, perhaps his capacity to do so had been stolen by her untimely death. It’s a great relief to discover that he can still love another person so strongly.

“Thank you,” Dale murmurs to his son, who’s currently drinking a bottle and inexplicably sleeping while doing so. “Thank you for providing us the means to understand.”

The house slumbers aside from him. They’d come back here and Harry cooked food for him… Harry has always cooked for him, he’s completely inept around a frying pan and generally subsists off of sandwiches and cold cereal or spends money at the diner. But Harry is an excellent cook, competent and skilled in the use of a stove. And once they’d eaten, this handsome cowboy in his red plaid shirt (it also had the sleeves rolled up, which was completely unfair) had backed Dale into the refrigerator and kissed him until they both lost their bearings. Dale had come to realize that Harry was afraid… it might’ve been a particularly vivid daydream, apparently. So Dale had pulled him back in for more kisses, much gentler ones, and stroked his fluffy hair and his shoulders until he was calm again.

It may actually take the prize for the best first time he’s ever been kissed by someone. Harry Truman in old ragged blue jeans and an undone flannel should be illegal, it’s much too powerful of an image to be safe for anyone. To say nothing of the hat. If he’d also been wearing his hat at the time Dale possibly would’ve been rendered incapable of thinking at all. But Harry is an excellent kisser, extremely thorough and conscientious and even sensitive. Dale is positive that he’s never been kissed by anyone in the same manner that he’s now been kissed by Harry.

Dale burps Zach on his shoulder and then promptly returns both of them to Harry’s bedroom after switching off the light. He places his son in the crib and stands for a moment, looking down, struck again by the magnificent and still somewhat shocking notion that _he has a son._ He has a son with Harry, a biological impossibility considering they’re both in possession of XY chromosomes. It causes him to very briefly and randomly wonder about Denise, how she would go about having children - if she’ll adopt them or if science will be kind and devise an alternative for people like her.

Dale slips as unintrusively as possible back into bed with Harry, who’s about as lively and mobile as a boulder and notices Dale’s presence exactly as much. The side of the bed he’s been given to occupy has cooled, so he nestles in closer to Harry for warmth - this is a mistake. Harry startles into the waking world immediately and flips onto his back, his arm almost catching Dale by accident. He remains needlessly tense for a moment and then sighs.

“You need somethin’, Coop?” Harry mumbles, nearly incoherently.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I was cold, that’s all.”

“Hm. ’Kay. C’mere.” Harry rolls over clumsily and with very little warning draws Dale in to snuggle against his chest. Dale immediately relaxes and settles, closing his eyes. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“G’night, Coop.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently babies can, in fact, sleep while drinking their food.


	5. Happiness

When even _was_ the last time Harry woke up in the morning holding somebody in his arms?

It wasn’t Josie - he never slept in her bed and the only time she slept in his, he wasn’t there for it. It wasn’t Meghan either, he wasn’t with her long enough. It must’ve been Chuck. Too bad Chuck went back to Canada, Harry really liked him, a scruffy lumber worker who always smelled like pine trees.

But this morning, Harry wakes up spooning Dale, who’s a bit leaner than him and smells like some kinda deodorant that’s probably expensive as hell and who also apparently gets cold at night without his blue flannel pajamas. Both of them are just in shirts and underwear because Harry sleeps like that usually anyway and Dale clearly didn’t actually plan on staying over. But Harry’s glad that he did. It’s really nice to not wake up alone and he’s loved Dale for awhile now, so this kinda thing falls right into his mental box of “dreams come true.” He presses his face into Dale’s messy black hair and smiles.

 _I never thought I could have this,_ Harry thinks. _I never thought I could have_ you. _And I never wanna have to wake up alone again._

That’s not even realistic - Dale does still work for the FBI and is sometimes gone for weeks - and also Harry should probably be more careful because sometimes he could swear under penalty of perjury that Dale really can just hear everything he’s thinking. But maybe he wouldn’t mind Dale hearing those thoughts anyway. Harry loves Dale… he’s in way over his head. But at least now the truth’s come out and they both know for sure, so he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning anymore. He learned to breathe again yesterday.

Dale starts to shuffle around a little and Harry kisses the back of his neck. “Morning Coop.”

“Good morning, Harry.” Dale’s huge smile comes through even in his voice. “Do you mind if I shower?”

“Yeah, go ahead. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Coffee.”

Harry chuckles. “Besides the obvious.”

“Whatever you come up with will be fine, I’m not picky.”

He kisses Dale’s neck again and gets out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweatpants before heading for the kitchen. He has eggs, he has cheese… omelets. Perfect. Harry gathers up everything he’ll need and listens to the shower run over the sound of the frying pan. Such calm, domestic noises. Harry doesn’t remember any morning where he’s felt so good about things even before having his coffee. He puts out two plates and pours two mugs… and Dale appears, holding Zach and heading right for the baby bottles lined up on the counter to throw together a separate breakfast for their son. That’s not the most significant thing here, though.

“You stole some’a my underwear, too?” Harry snorts.

“I’ll give them back,” Dale promises, very seriously. “I didn’t have a change of clothes and assumed you wouldn’t mind-”

“Coop, it’s fine,” he chuckles.

What really makes this a thing for Harry is that Dale is a little skinnier than he is, so these clothes - a blue plaid shirt and a pair of his tan work pants - are just slightly loose. There’s no mistaking that they actually belong to Harry. And watching this, Dale in his clothes and smelling like his shaving cream and feeding their son, Harry could honestly die happy right now. He comes up behind and puts his arms around Dale in a way that he’s also holding Zach at the same time, resting his chin on Dale’s shoulder.

“You’re exceptionally pleased with me over this,” Dale comments.

“I like you in my clothes,” Harry admits. “It’s kinda cute.”

“Honestly, Harry, I never would’ve pegged you as someone who would get possessive.”

“Uh… well, I just…” He can’t come up with an excuse.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind. I don’t recall the last time I’ve seen you this happy and I’m glad I contributed to it.”

“You didn’t ‘contribute,’ Coop, you’re solely responsible,” Harry laughs. He briefly kisses the spot behind Dale’s ear. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

* * *

Since the town is unaware and neither of them have anything to do today, they put on their boots and coats and dress Zach in his snowsuit in order to go for a leisurely morning walk through the trees behind Harry’s house. Being the end of March, it isn’t unbearably cold out, but under the shade of the pines the snow is still nearly a foot deep. Harry keeps Zach on his shoulder with one arm and his other hand is twined with Dale’s.

“Harry, I have a very important question.”

“Sure, Coop.”

“How long would you like me to wait until I go bragging about this to everyone I know?”

Harry chuckles. “I didn’t know you were the bragging type, Coop.”

“Well, this is an extraordinary occurrence.”

“Who were you planning on telling first?”

“Diane, technically, accounting for my tapes. But also Gordon and Albert, possibly Denise. All of my friends in federal law enforcement essentially.”

“And you’re okay outing yourself to them like that?”

“They’re already in the know,” Dale explains. “And Diane has long been aware of my romantic interest in you to begin with.” He glances over at Harry. “Who would you tell first?”

“Hawk, because he’s been after me to come clean to you the whole time,” Harry admits, looking slightly embarrassed about this. “The town’s gonna find out on their own, so I don’t really need to tell that many people. I might let Lucy in on it since she was so helpful, and I kinda think she already suspects something anyway.” He makes a face. “Why do you want everybody to know so bad, anyway?”

“Because I’m happy.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“I know everything has been overwhelming for you recently, Harry…”

“And?”

“I’m concerned you may have reservations that I’m not aware of.”

Harry’s quiet for a second. “Coop, what are you actually… looking for?”

“At the moment?”

“No, uh, in a relationship.”

“Oh. For starters, I would like to not have you be ashamed of me,” Dale decides. “In previous romantic partnerships with other men, they were concerned with being outed and in general people becoming suspicious of them always being seen with me. And then with Caroline, she was having an affair with me, which is generally frowned upon. It hasn’t occurred to me until now to ask this, Harry, but will you also feel ashamed to be seen with me?”

“No, of course not. Everyone sees us together anyway, nobody’ll think twice about it. Probably some’a them already think this is what’s going on.”

“Good,” Dale nods. “For you specifically, I have a great appreciation for you being predictable and dependable. I always know what to expect from you and that’s not common to my life. Stability in some shape or form is very important.”

“But won’t that get boring?”

“Harry… to use a figurative expression, I would _kill_ for the reasonable expectation of boredom in many aspects of my life,” he says. “My job is very exciting. Working with Albert is always interesting. I’m extremely disenfranchised with exciting and interesting things at this point. Please, continue to be as boring as you like, because it puts absolutely no additional mental strain on me. What specifically are you concerned about?”

“Coop, you’re way outta my league.”

“Harry, please allow me to say that you’re intelligent, and charming, kind, honest, reliable, comforting. You’re one of the best men I know and I don’t have any reason to believe I would ever find a suitable replacement if you for whatever reason stopped being part of my life. Please don’t fall into a common trap of agonizing over ‘why is he with me.’ You’re more than good enough, and I’m with you because I want to be. I promise that’s all there is to it.”

Harry starts to smile a little. “You gonna dig up all my insecurities and beat them over the head?”

“Given the opportunity to do so, I absolutely will.”

“Okay then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am an absolute sucker for Cooper wearing Harry's clothes in any way shape or form. You may have noticed randomly in several fics of mine before mentions of Cooper stealing Harry's flannels to wear for himself.


	6. Epilogue - Going Home

“Okay, c’mere,” Harry encourages, holding his hands out.

Zach takes a step and Harry shuffles backwards on his knees a few inches, which gets another step. He still shuffles even with his arms out. Zach follows him, not getting that he’s being tricked into walking all the way across the living room by his dad. Eventually Harry bumps the wall and Zach reaches his hands. Harry scoops up his son and then stands.

“Good job, buddy!” He dramatically kisses the side of Zach’s neck and gets a squealing laugh. “Oh, you did so good!”

“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba!”

“No, not bad, you did good,” Harry grins. He tilts his head to the side to avoid a hand. “Hey,  _ no, _ don’t grab dad’s ear, it hurts. Okay.” Harry sets him down and he speeds away on all fours over to his toys. Harry, meanwhile, goes for the phone. He checks the notepad for this case’s hotel number and dials as fast as he can.

“Cooper here.”

“Dale!” Harry yells through a huge smile that he just can’t help. “I got him to walk all the way across the room without holding onto anything, he didn’t fall once!”

There’s a few seconds of quiet.

“That’s wonderful, Harry.”

“Coop, what’s wrong?”

“Well… let me gather my thoughts for a moment, Harry…” A sigh. “Alright. Do you recall when he rolled over on his own the first time?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I don’t, because I was working a human trafficking case in New York. And do you recall when he sat up on his own?”

“Yeah.” Harry can already see where this is going.

“I was investigating a double homicide in Colorado. Now how about when he started crawling?”

“Coop-”

“I was being held hostage by a domestic terrorist cell. You reportedly called my hotel room five times and panicked when I couldn’t answer, and by the time I was capable of making contact again you were absolutely sure that I had been injured or killed in the line of duty and didn’t even inform me of the original purpose of your call until I returned home. And now, here I am in Dallas, once more having a significant event of my only child’s life described to me as opposed to witnessing it for myself. How many more will I miss due to poor timing?”

He sounds so frustrated and sad… Harry wishes there was a way to reach through the phone and hug him.

“Well… I’m sorry, Coop. I wish there was something I could do.”

“It’s not your fault, Harry.” Dale sighs again. “The case is nearly concluded, I’ll be home before the end of the week.”

“Okay. We miss you.”

“I know, the feeling is mutual. However my vacation time was confirmed, they won’t be able to call me in again until the second week of January.”

“That’s good.”

“Dammit… I’m sorry, Harry, Albert wants my attention.”

“Yeah, okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I’ll be home soon.”

They hang up.

* * *

Dale waits until Albert has concluded with his findings and announces the least impulsive decision he’s ever made.

“Albert, once this case is over I’m resigning.”

His colleague stares at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’m missing too much, Albert. I’m absent for large portions of time in my son’s life. There have been many moments in the past ten months where I wasn’t sure I would even make it home to Harry and Zach  _ alive. _ This is unacceptable and it can’t continue. He walked on his own for the first time this afternoon and like always I learned this from Harry calling to tell me about it. I should’ve been there.”

Albert nods slightly. “We’re losing a good agent.”

“There are other agents…”

“I know.” Rough sympathy, a rarity in Albert, crosses his expression. “There’s only one of you, Coop. But there are other agents and you’re right, you should be there. Now presumably Sam will be able to handle the mopping up of this one by himself, everything’s more or less wrapped up already anyway. Go home, be with them. Take care of yourself.”

Dale smiles. “Thank you, Albert. You’re a good friend.”

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Someday, it’ll be legal, and you damn well better invite me.”

He laughs. “Of course I will, so long as you promise not to upset Harry too much.”

“I’ll do my best. Go back upstairs and pack, I’ll call Gordon.”

Dale rides the elevator to the fourth floor and comes into his room, but doesn’t immediately reach for his suitcase. Instead he picks up the phone again.

“Harry, it’s me. I’m coming home tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> Updates, like usual, are Mondays and Fridays.
> 
> All my Twin Peaks fics can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&include_work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=127943&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&user_id=Aaron_The_8th_Demon).
> 
> Comments are welcomed and encouraged! :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Six Pines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26046478) by [Figlepie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Figlepie/pseuds/Figlepie)




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